His hearers looked at him in some surprise; they doubted whether he was not amusing himself at their expense. His bearing puzzled them.
"Anything we can do to assist Monsieur," began the one who had not yet spoken.
St. Just bowed and resumed, "There is little to tell, and that little is soon told. I have been but a few days in Paris, and I came to make inquiries for a person for whom I have an important communication. I was merely strolling about here on the chance of meeting some one who could give me the address of the one I seek. Now, gentlemen, you know my business. There is naught of mystery about it, though something I did or said a while ago seemed to discompose you strangely."
The men seemed now reassured, satisfied that his presence there was an accident and himself no spy upon their actions. His frankness and dauntlessness had disarmed them. They hastened to apologize, and then the man with the swarthy face went on, "It is just possible, but hardly likely, that we might give the information Monsieur seeks. If Monsieur would be at the trouble to state the name of the person he inquires about—"
"But certainly," St. Just interrupted, "the lady's name is Madame de Moncourt."
Again both men started visibly; it was plain that this name was wholly unexpected by them; and that its mention stirred them greatly. In his way St. Just was almost as astonished as themselves; he never thought to get the news he sought from them. Now he was assured that they could give it.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I see that the name is not unknown to you and that you can oblige me with the lady's address. It was a fortunate circumstance that brought me to you."
The next moment he had reason to doubt the truth of this last remark, for, in an instant, he found himself seized, and a dagger pointed at his heart. At the same time, a voice muttered in tones that, though low, were distinct enough, "The first of your myrmidons who enters here shall see this planted in your breast."
For all the suddenness of the attack and his inward trepidation, St. Just showed no outward mark of flinching. He knew his best chance of safety lay in keeping cool and exhibiting no signs of fear.
"Is this a comedy, Gentlemen," he said, "or what? Such rapid changes in demeanor I never saw before; one moment you are all courtesy, the next all menace. I think, if you would explain yourselves, we should the better understand each other. First, for whom or what do you take me?"